


Fragged

by Liliako



Category: Big Time Rush RPF
Genre: Dorks, Kendall's apartment is so ugly, Kink, M/M, Video & Computer Games, Wrestling for the controller
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-16
Updated: 2015-10-16
Packaged: 2018-04-26 14:44:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5008708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liliako/pseuds/Liliako
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i> “You can’t pause the game for half an hour? Seriously, this’ll only take a minute,” Logan explains, unbuckling his belt as he talks.</i><br/>“No! No pausing! I’m in the zone!”<br/>“Clearly, we are in different zones,” Logan pops the button on his jeans, grinning to himself. “Mine is the zone where you get your dick sucked, just sayin’.”</p><p> </p><p>They both want to play, just different ways.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fragged

**Author's Note:**

> Origianlly posted on fanfiction.net here: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/6979614/1/Fragged

“Dude, knock it off! We have Nazi’s to fight!” Kendall tries to scoot away from Logan’s wandering hands and Logan pulls back a moment, ignoring how the map has begun and his character is idling.

“You can’t pause the game for half an hour? Seriously, this’ll only take a minute,” Logan explains, unbuckling his belt as he talks. They’re sitting with their backs against the ugliest couch Logan has possibly ever laid eyes on, which is the whole reason Kendall bought it. Kendall’s apartment would make any interior decorator cry tears of rage and blood, Logan was pretty sure- that’s how mismatched and horrific it was. The throw pillows were cheesy animal prints, cheetah and zebra, while the couch itself was a strange green striped lumpy thing. Kendall insists it’s comfortable, everyone else begs to differ.

“No! No pausing! I’m in the zone!” Kendall’s character has rallied ahead with their other team mates and is hiding in some bushes aiming for a head shot on an enemy in the house.

“Clearly, we are in different zones,” Logan pops the button on his jeans, grinning to himself. “Mine is the zone where you get your dick sucked, just sayin’.”

“Whatever. You have to learn to control yourself. You pop a boner every time someone’s got blood on their face, we can’t ever watch _Fight Club_ without you jumping my bones. It wasn’t even a real person this time! It was a cut scene! Digital faces, animated bruises and pixilated blood!” Kendall chastises while storming the house. His character peeks around corners and throws open doors, blows away any bad guy in his path and raids the house of ammo and medical supplies.

“The graphics are fucking awesome, and don’t judge me Mister Has-a-Thing-for-Handcuffs,” Logan has his zipper down and palms himself through his boxers.

“That is a legitimate thing, okay?!” Kendall is making a grumpy indignant face as he flips through his weapon choices, weighing pros and cons in his mind, no doubt.

“Look, are you really going to pass up hot sex for video games? Have we become that cliche?” Logan whines a little, only because it’s pretty pathetic if they’ve already reached that point.

“Not until you’re blowing me while I play WoW and I don’t even notice you’re there have we reached that level of awful.” Kendall is completely serious, which is a little worrying.

“Good thing you don’t play WoW,” Logan rolls his eyes, unseen, and Kendall’s character is setting out away from the house into another dumb looking open field with little cover.

And then it’s like he hits an invisible wall. It doesn’t matter what Kendall does, or how much he curses the game in mutters, he’s not making any progress. A little dialogue box flashes at the top of the screen informing him that he’s left a team mate behind and he has to go back for them. Kendall shoots Logan a glare.

“Pick up the controller and move your ass! I have places to be, people to kill!” He kicks out a foot at Logan’s leg, bumping it impatiently. Logan catches Kendall’s ankle in his hand and doesn’t let go even when Kendall tries to shake it off. They have a momentary stare down, a battle of hedonistic wills, before Kendall makes a lunge for Logan’s controller.

Logan kicks it away, but Kendall keeps reaching and ends up half laying over Logan’s legs on his knees, ass in the air, right arm flailing uselessly for the controller out of his grasp. Before Kendall can scramble forward to get it, Logan slaps his ass and gets his fingers through his belt loops. Kendall glares at him and tries to move forward but he’s yanked back by the infuriating half an inch of belt loop.

“Five minutes,” Logan laughs at him as Kendall twist-rolls towards the TV, away from Logan.

“No, we finish the campaign first.” Kendall is being a stubborn asshole, and there’s really only one way to remedy that. Fucking it out of him.

“Gonna be pretty hard to get any farther without me,” Logan gestures to where Kendall’s character is still stuck. Kendall glances at the screen and then looks like he’s judging how far he can get to Logan’s discarded controller before Logan can get to him if he moves. “Go ahead. Try it,” Logan goads him.

Kendall doesn’t ever turn down a challenge because he’s a braggart, so of course he tries to dart past Logan’s feet. And of course Logan body-slams him into the entertainment center where the flat screen TV wobbles precariously. And of course they roll around on the ugly brown carpet fighting for dominance and bragging rights. And _of course_ Logan ends up on top because he fights dirty and pulls Kendall’s stupid floppy hair a little.

“You give up now?” Logan asks, smirking triumphantly down at Kendall, who is still glaring at him. He’s sitting high up on Kendall’s chest because it’s common knowledge if you straddle not the waist or hips but a little higher up towards the chest, the person on the bottom doesn’t have enough leverage to flip you. Logan tugs a little sharply at Kendall’s hair and the boy grits out a ‘no’. “You know you’re not going to win this one, just give in.”

“Hell no,” Kendall snorts up at him. His hand darts up and twists one of Logan’s nipples through his shirt in revenge. Logan grunts and tries to shove Kendall’s hand away, but they end up just shoving at each others arms.

“What do you have against orgasms?” Logan huffs as he struggles with pushing Kendall’s wrists down. The devious blond does one of those dumb moves where you give in to your opponent which surprises them and catches them off guard. He lets Logan push his wrists down but moves them closer to his head so he is in range of biting Logan’s wrists. Which he does. Jerk.

“What do you have against digital-fake-Nazi killing?!” Kendall snipes back triumphantly for a moment when Logan lets one of his wrists go. As soon as Logan closes both hands around Kendall’s forearm, though, his expression plummets into despair. “Don’t you dare- Fuck!” He hisses in pain from the Indian Rug Burn and Logan just laughs.

“That’s what you get, _bitch!_ Oof-” Logan’s own victory is cut short when Kendall mashes his palm against Logan’s chin and forces his head back.

They scuffle again, jabbing, pinching, shoving and hitting until a familiar sound comes from the TV. It’s the distinct shot of a German rifle splatting apart someone’s head. The top half of the TV screen shows the top down view of Kendall’s character lying limp in the grass with blood seeping from his body.

“I’m dead!” Kendall gapes at the TV and Logan slaps Kendall’s cheek lightly with a cackle of joy. “Whatever, don’t be so happy, you’re still alive so I’ll respawn in-“ A second shot is heard and the bottom half of the screen is a red wash before the top down view of Logan’s character flopping down onto a dirt path is shown. “Sonovabitch,” Kendall mutters, frowning. Small white text of ‘GAME OVER’ settles into the center of the screen as Logan gets up to turn the console off.

“So! You, me, bed, good times?” Logan smirks down at Kendall and jangles his belt that’s still unbuckled. Kendall heaves a deep put upon sigh as he sits up.

“Yeah I guess so. But you can’t give me any more marks,” he motions at the red burn on his arm and the various other small bruises blooming from elbows and pinches. Logan just rolls his eyes and starts to shake off his jeans as he heads for the bedroom.

“Says the one who bites,” Logan throws over his shoulder before disappearing through the door.

Kendall pulls a sour face and gets up quickly, muttering to himself as he follows, “I’ll show you biting, stupid jerk ruining my game…”


End file.
